Page 61 of Doctor Bossy

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Dr. Lin said soothingly as she moved closer to me. Her eyes glinted with sympathy. “We forget things all the time, and even if you hadn’t, you still might be pregnant. The only foolproof way to not get pregnant is abstinence. The good news is that you have certain options for what you can do. Luckily, we live in a state where you will not have to carry the pregnancy to term if you don’t want to.”

I looked up at her. Was she talking about abortion? Oh, God. I had never been morally opposed to them before, but for some reason, the idea of getting one right now made me sick.

She must have noticed the look on my face because she squeezed my shoulder gently. “You don’t have to decide now. You have a lot of time to consider what you want to do with the fetus. In the meantime, I will refer you to a gynecologist who can give you some further counseling on the matter as well as make sure that everything else is as it should be.”

I nodded, swallowing past the knot that developed in my throat. “Thanks.” I appreciated the woman’s candor as well as the care she took to break the news to me. I couldn’t imagine what it would have been like if Griffin had been here when she told me. I would have died.

“So that was why I passed out?” I asked.

“Presumably,” she said. “Keep in mind that all the test results aren’t out yet, but from what we can see so far, there isn’t anything more serious going on here. You have a pretty clean bill of health.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Do you want me to call Dr. McCormick to come back in?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Not yet,” I said. “I kinda want to think about everything first.”

“Alright. And about Dr. McCormick…” She gave me a meaningful look. “If you need anything or want to report anybody for something, you let me know, alright?”

“Don’t worry,” I assured her. “Nothing is going on.”

Dr. Lin didn’t look like she believed me, but she nodded and said, “I’ll go have the nurse bring in your discharge paperwork then.”

“Thank you.”

After she left, the panic I had been trying to suppress filled my mind. Thoughts ran through my head, one after another. Oh my God, I was pregnant. There was a little fetus inside me that could potentially become a baby. That is if I decided to keep it. It was mine. And Griffin’s.

I was having a baby with a man who I was having a fling with—a man who did not love me and most certainly only saw me as temporary.

I knew he would not react well to this news.

Should I tell him?

I remained conflicted about the thought.

Growing up, I never knew my father, and while I wouldn’t say it traumatized me, it had placed a huge question mark on my life. I always wondered who he was, if he would have been a better parent than my mother, why he abandoned me, or if he was even still alive. Knowing my mother, it was probably just some bum she met one night who gave her enough money to feed her habit, but when I was a kid, I romanticized the idea of having a real dad, someone who would care for me and love me no matter what.

I didn’t care if he was poor or ugly. More than anything, not knowing for sure tormented me.

Just then, the curtains opened, and I turned to find Griffin standing there, watching me.

He only analyzed me for a few seconds before he paled.

His face instantly tensed. “What did she tell you?”

I wasn’t ready for the confrontation yet, so I just shook my head. “Nothing important. She just told me it was probably the stress from the past few days and that I needed to get some sleep, that’s all.”

“You’re lying.” He strode right up to my face, agitation radiating off him. He was breathing hard, and his eyes scanned me as if searching for any signs that I would spontaneously combust at any minute. “What did she tell you?” he repeated.

“I told you, she didn’t tell me anything.” I wasn’t a very good liar, and his proximity was making it even harder. “Griff—”

He grabbed my arms, and I jumped, more from the shock than anything. He wasn’t grasping me hard, but there was a slight tremble in his fingers. That was when I got a good look at his eyes and saw the intensity in them, saw the abject fear behind them. He was terrified.

“Griff,” I said softly. “Are you okay?”

“Tell me what she told you,” he pleaded. “Are you dying? Am I going to lose you too?”

And then I saw it, behind the intensity and panic—a slightly glassy look. Like he was looking at me but notreallyseeing me.

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